A Siren's Call
by Tadpole24
Summary: The times Killian knows sirens are tempting him on his journey to Emma. And the way no siren will ever live up to the real thing. Captain Swan for my Secret Shipmate.


_**Written for Tumblr's Secret Shipmates in the lead up to 3B and all the excitement that it entails. **_

_**I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are always appreciated.**_

…

A Siren's Call

…

It's been mere days when he comes across his first one. He'd only wanted to fill his canteen from the waters of a dying river, but a shimmer in the distance had caught his eye and before he could do a thing about it, he had his arm wrapped around the beautiful figure before him.

"Emma?" he whispers, already knowing his assumption to be false, but struggling to keep his focus, the edges of his vision already blurring with lust.

She's strong and smooth and Killian doesn't even feel himself taking the steps into the water, his entire being occupied by this great beauty. "Hook," she whispers, her nose brushing against his as she leans in, "I love you."

He can taste the water on her lips when she closes the gap between them, assaulting his senses with memories and hope. He knows this is wrong, that Emma can't be here, that this thing that he is kissing is a mirage, an illusion. A siren.

But he won't stop.

Can't.

"Gods," he mutters against her lips, feeling her soft skin beneath his fingertips. He knows if he is to look down, he would find her bared to him completely. And the desire is there, the want and the need to feel this way forever.

And then she grasps his ribs with strong fingertips causing him to lunge forward in pain and see the truth of her. Dark hair in mangled knots, skin a greyish green colour, rotting and falling from her weakened frame. The sirens that once roamed boundless in this land have been confined to rivers and inlets, their bodies starved of fresh meat for their bounty. And it shows.

He pulls away, the once menacing siren unable to keep him under her spell, and makes his way back to his horse, back to finding a way to get back to his love, to his real Emma.

…

The second time it happens, he knows something has shifted. The earth moving beneath his feet, his body thrust from its position and thrown into a swirling vortex that's descending from the sky. It's dark and light all at once, his eyes burning with the need for consistency and trying to maintain focus on what little he can perceive before him.

And then he sees her and all is lost. He wonders if he's dying, because she is all he would want to see, but when her fingers reach out to touch his skin, he can't feel them and he knows this is just an illusion, something unreal and crazy. "Hook," she whispers, "You came back."

There's a desperation in her eyes, a wild need for him to always come back to her, to be the one who breaks the mould and gives her hope. His reply is automatic, "Does that surprise you?"

Her ghostly form smiles, "Not even a little."

He wishes she were real, wishes that he knew what was going on. If it holds no danger, he might be tempted to just stay here with her. Eternity in what appears to be a reckless tornado doesn't sound so bad when he has his love with him.

Her fingers lace through his and, though he can't feel them, he grasps hers tight.

"I miss you," he whispers through the wild winds, "I miss you so much."

And then it's time to let go. He can sense the end of his journey approaching, the air thinning to normal and reality creeping in to steal Emma away from him once more. His siren of the wind disappearing as his feet hit the asphalt ground, his body crumbling at the realisation of where he is.

He had suspected he was travelling the realms in this portal, but he would never have thought _this_ to be the outcome.

He gets to his feet, his eyes darting around as he takes in the scene before him, back in the land without magic.

The town line glows before him, tempting him with the knowledge that Emma lies on the other side of it, somewhere out there. He assumes he's not the only one who has been brought back, but due to his distance from the others in the Enchanted Forest, he also assumes everyone is back in town and perhaps able to offer him more answers than he's getting on his own.

So he turns on his heel, regrettably away from the town line and the city of New York where Regina had said she'd sent his love, and makes his way back into Storybrooke.

…

The third one he sees is completely foreign to him. It's late at night and Emma has finally agreed to visit Neal's apartment. Not that she knows that's what it is. But he knows he won't hear from her until at least tomorrow.

Using the money David had given him, he finds himself lodgings for the evening, marvelling at the luxury in this world when he finally navigates the beeping door key and steps into a room fit with all the trappings of a royal and more. The bed is what catches his eye first, the size easily three times larger than the one on his beloved _Roger_.

At the thought of his ship a twinge of pain runs through him. The sea vessel had vanished with the curse and he's still unsure how to cope with the loss.

He sinks into one of the plush chairs, reaching out and pressing buttons on what he can only assume is a control for the black screen in front of him. He's seen one of these before and has always wondered…

"…and for more on the unfolding story we cross to our correspondent in Times Square who has one of our city's finest with him. Greg?"

The screen changes abundantly from shades of blue to flashes of light and colour, a man with a ball on a stick in front of his mouth begins talking, "Thank you Rachael. Yes, I'm here with Detective Emma Swan who is heading the case. What can you tell us about these robberies, detective?"

Killian tunes out, his eyes going wide. What is this magic? Surely there must be some enchantment at play. He had _just_ seen Emma not half an hour ago and she was very adamantly not going anywhere but home. Yet here she is, right before his eyes, on this large screen. He moves in closer, reaching out to touch the image and jumping back when he feels a zap run through him. Right, so big screen is dangerous.

He nods at the technology and then hurriedly steps away from it once more. He'd known Emma was a woman of the law, Regina having given him a brief rundown on the new memories his love possessed, but he doesn't understand why she would be in this projection. Nevertheless, it's wonderful to see her again, so composed and professional, a siren from afar. He feels a swell of pride in his gut, smiling as she speaks to the man. His longing to see her again only grows for the next few minutes and once the image becomes a blue background and a different woman once more, Killian presses the button on the control again, content to lie down in the gigantic bed and ponder just how he's going to be able to get Emma to trust him.

…

The fourth time, he knows she's not a siren at all and he wants nothing more than to comfort her, but he's unsure how.

She raises her hand to her head as Henry closes his bedroom door behind him. Emma had made the decision to let her son live in ignorance for just a little while, just until she can figure out how she's going to break it to him that he hasn't led the happy life he thinks he has.

Killian stands a good distance behind her, but he easily sees the stress outlined in her shoulders, the way she's about to crumble from the pain of it all.

He wishes he could have let her keep her happiness.

She turns to face him, tears in her eyes, her hands shaking. But despite the fear, she steps towards him, eyes bright and sure. "Everything changes now."

He nods, though it's not a question, "Aye."

She bites her lip and looks over her shoulder. Seemingly satisfied that Henry will be in his room for at least a few more minutes, she reaches up, her hand finding the back of Killian's neck and pulling him into her, a kiss waiting on her lips ready for him to collect.

Her grip on him is relentless, their heads tilting simultaneously to deepen the kiss as a breathy sigh escapes her. His hand snakes up her side, coming to rest on her cheek, holding both people there, in a tentative balance, as she reluctantly pulls away.

She lets him pepper her with pecks on her lips, on her cheeks, her neck, but slowly steps back from him, her focus growing sharper with every passing second, "We can't. I mean…I can't…I just needed to know…"

"Know what, lass?" He can tell she's chewing the inside of her cheek, trying to get out of admitting what he so desperately needs to hear. "It's okay. It's safe here," he encourages.

She finally meets his eye, "That you still feel the same way. That we're still a possibility. It gives me more to fight for."

Henry comes out of his room then, heaving a backpack onto his shoulder. Emma smiles, turning back around to her son, "You all ready?"

Henry nods and Killian finds himself doing the same.

Over a year of searching and wondering if he'd ever see more than a siren of his love has made him exceptionally ready to fight for the real one.

As they climb into her 'bug' and begin their journey, her hand reaches out to sit on his knee, tethering her to the reality of him. And he starts to think that maybe, just maybe, she's ready to fight for him too.

…


End file.
